


i couldn’t forget you if i tried

by endofadream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blowjobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes is a Virgin, Casting Couch, Cliche porn tropes, Dubious refractory periods, Logic has no place in porn, M/M, Masturbation, Not explicitly mentioned but Steve is 34 and Bucky is 23, Porn Star Bucky Barnes, Porn director Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, The whole fic is just a bad porn video, Top Steve Rogers, Twink Bucky Barnes, dubious consent but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: There’s a pause, and Bucky’s voice is very, very soft when he says, “Nonexistent.”





	i couldn’t forget you if i tried

**Author's Note:**

> accept all of this with a grain of salt, y’all. don’t let people take advantage of you! i also do not condone this type of behavior, but for the sake of the whole point of the story (cliche porn tropes) that’s what’s happening.

“You’re…Mr. Barnes, right? James Barnes?” Steve shuts the door behind him, looking up from the clipboard in his hands. “I’m Steve Rogers, the casting director.”

James blinks up at Steve from where he’s sitting on the couch. His eyes are more steel than blue in this light, and the sharp cut of his jaw makes Steve feel a little weak at the knees. His photos, Steve thinks, absolutely do not do any justice to the real thing.

“Yup, that’s me,” Bucky says with a wide, wide smile, and Steve stares at the stretch of his lips, imagines them pulled tight around some of the biggest cocks in the business. “Call me Bucky.”

Bucky stands and offers a hand to Steve, which he takes. Standing, Bucky isn’t much shorter than Steve, though he is lithe with just the right amount of muscle definition. Firm grip, long fingers.

“Come up with a name already?” Steve asks, and Bucky laughs.

“Nickname from childhood. Just kinda stuck with it. I usually try to go by James in professional settings, but given the situation…” He shrugs, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

His eyes are even more intense when looking directly at you. Already Steve is imagining a million scenes with Bucky looking straight at the cameras: while getting fucked; while fucking; with a cock down his throat; taking a load straight to the face. The list goes on and _on_.

Steve directs Bucky to the chair in front of his desk and Bucky sits. The lines of his body are still tense, lips drawn a little thin. He’s acting like he isn’t nervous, which is absolutely adorable, if Steve wants to be completely honest. Everyone who sits on that couch is nervous in one way or another, whether it’s nerves from committing themselves to what’s going to happen or nerves from being afraid of being rejected.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he says, turning to his computer to click on a few things before rummaging in his drawer for a sheet of paper and a pen. “Now, how old are you?”

That blinding smile again, like fear never crossed Bucky’s face. “Twenty-three.”

“What made you decide to pursue a career in the porn industry?” It’s the question that’s stumped handfuls of hopefuls before: Steve’s come to find out that people who answer with “just because” tend to not do as well.

Bucky hesitates. “I. I, uh, I really like pleasing people, I guess. And sex, too.”

Steve holds a smile for a few seconds as he writes down Bucky’s answers. “And what would you say your level of experience is with sex? High, low, medium?”

There’s a pause, and Bucky’s voice is very, very soft when he says, “Nonexistent.”

Steve pauses, sure he hasn’t heard correctly. On one hand, he refuses to believe that a man as gorgeous as Bucky is a virgin; on the other, he feels inexplicably turned on, unable to ignore the sudden throbbing interest in his cock. He writes it down anyway, a tiny, cramped _virgin_ scrawled under sexual experience.

His hand trembles on the pen and he almost can’t bring himself to look up.

“So you’re a virgin, then,” Steve states, not asks, leaning back in his chair and discreetly crossing his legs.

Bucky colors but nods shyly, biting his lip. God, he is definitely going to be some of the hottest wank material this website has ever gotten.

“You’ve never touched anyone,” Steve says.

Bucky shakes his head.

“You’ve never been touched.”

Another shake of the head.

“But you touch yourself regularly, I presume.”

Bucky’s flush darkens but he nods, and when he meets Steve’s eyes this time there’s a sort of challenge hidden deep within the virginal nervousness, a preening sense of pride that says _despite_ _my_ _complete_ _lack_ _of_ _sexual_ _contact_ _with_ _another_ _human_ _being_ _I_ _do_ _know_ _my_ _way_ _around_ _my_ _body_. “Yes.”

“I’m going to need you to strip for me, Bucky,” Steve says, forcing his voice level and neutral. “I don’t want to send you out into the snake pit unprepared—pardon my pun. Stand up—there, good, your shirt can go over on the couch. Jeans, too, if you please…great.”

Bucky turns back around to face him, now in nothing but a pair of tight cerulean boxer-briefs. The shape of his cock is long and thick against his left thigh, and he’s already half-hard, just from stripping. Oh, Steve _loves_ the boys who can get so worked up so quickly.

Bucky holds himself as if unsure, shoulders slightly hunched and hands clasped tight into fists at his sides, like he’s going to try and cover himself. Steve supposes that it is possible to have stunningly beautiful men think the very opposite of themselves.

Steve beckons him over, and as Bucky steps up to the desk Steve reaches out to rub his hand over the line of Bucky’s dick, pleased to feel him respond and to hear Bucky’s sharp intake of breath. “Very nice,” Steve murmurs, teasing over the head and then down further to the bulge of his balls. “What are you, seven, eight inches when fully erect?”

“I—I don’t know,” Bucky says on a moan. “I never wanted to measure.” His moan jumps into a whine when Steve slides his hand between Bucky’s legs to rub over his perineum and press between his cheeks. Instinctually his legs widen. “ _Ohhh_ —oh, _god_.”

“Feel good?” Steve asks, low and whispery despite his best efforts to control his voice. He squeezes one of Bucky’s cheeks, feeling hard muscle under soft, voluptuous skin.

“So good,” Bucky gasps, letting his head fall back as his legs space wider, ass thrusting out and body leaning forward. “So much better than when I— _oh_ —when I do it.”

“I’m gonna need you to turn around, honey,” Steve says, “and then I’m gonna need you to grab the back of the chair and bend over in front of my desk. Keep your legs wide for me, okay? Nice and wide.”

“Like this?” Bucky asks, and his voice is too breathy to be an accident, but there’s no mischievous glint to his eye, no playful lilt to his words. He grips the back of the chair and bends over, dipping his back and pushing his hips up. The cotton of his underwear stretches tight across his skin, riding up on his thighs and accentuating the curve of his cheeks and the divide of his ass.

“Great, you’re doing great.” Bucky keeps looking back, lips parted and eyes wide, curious-bright, like he’s searching for approval, the knowledge that he’s doing this right. Steve wants to wreck him. He wants to debauch this man over and over, Jesus Christ. “Now…hook your fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down slowly. Show me your tight little virgin hole that the internet’s going to know and love.”

Bucky lets out a shuddery breath and complies, sliding his underwear down his ass, wiggling his hips and swaying them slightly from side to side as the waistband slips past the swell, down to the curve where his thighs meet his cheeks, until they finally slide down his legs to pool on the floor, allowing Bucky to step out of them.

“So hot,” Steve groans, and he doesn’t care that it accidentally slipped out, or that he’s supposed to be neutral and completely unbiased with every person who comes through his office for his version of casting. Bucky’s spread his cheeks without being asked, fingers dipping and bending and curving gouged dents into his skin. The skin around his hole is a darker brown, close to that of his balls, but Steve can see the pink of the muscle as Bucky spreads a little more, stretching his skin taut. “You’re so gorgeous, Bucky. The internet’s going to go crazy when they see a thick cock in your ass. Do you work out?”

Steve watches the tremble of Bucky’s fingers, the clench of his hole. “I—um, I do. Not very often, though. They always said I could be a runner but I didn’t see the appeal of it.”

Steve hmms in acknowledgement, leaning back in his chair for a moment before standing and striding to the middle of the room. Bucky looks up, eyes glazed, still bent forward at the waist. Now, at this angle, Steve can see Bucky’s cock, hard and flushed dark and curving up toward his stomach, the head swollen and slick with pre-come, the shaft twisting and curving with veins.

“No, don’t move,” Steve says when Bucky starts to. His cock gives a jerk, pre-come beading at the tip before sliding down the slope of the head. “Stay there. I want you to touch yourself, all right? Are you okay with this? I just want to make sure you’re doing it right, sweetheart.”

Bucky opens his mouth and closes it quickly again, blinking and straightening up. His cock bobs with his movements, and he follows Steve’s instructions to sit in the chair. He quickly spits into his hand without being asked (he’ll be such a good boy, Steve thinks with a dry mouth, god, the Doms are going to fucking love him) and wraps it around his cock, spreading his legs and leisurely arching his back up.

Like this, it’s a response that’s more organic and natural than Steve commanding him to do anything. Like this, it’s Bucky responding to a familiar touch, his own, and letting his body talk as he sighs and moans, arches and twists, fucking up into his fist. He cups his balls with a firm grip, squeezing and rolling, and thumbs over the head of his cock before rubbing along the stretch of skin just underneath. He lets his head fall back to the chair, keeps his mouth open and slack as the sound of his hand on his cock gets slicker and filthier, faster the deeper his moans get.

It’s beautiful. That’s all that comes to Steve’s mind. He’s seen a lot and not much impresses him anymore: it’s part of the job, and he’s okay with it.

But Bucky, with the fluid motion of his muscles, the sinful pout of his open mouth, the furrow between his brow as he moans, transcends everything else. Steve could watch him all day, from the slight pulse of his fingers as he slides up from the base to the beautiful way his cock drools pre-come slick down to Bucky’s fist.

A flash of Bucky spread across Steve’s sheets, three fingers in his ass and hand wrapped around his cock, flashes through Steve’s mind. When he presses his heel against his cock through his slacks he isn’t subtle about it. Bucky notices, whines, eyes widening before falling closed. He fucks up into his fist, balls tightening.

It’s a bit of an effort to get Bucky to stop, and he’s dazed when he does, whining wordlessly as he lets his cock fall to his abdomen where it slaps, throbbing and jerking against the trembling muscles of his abdomen. He stands with difficulty, body still falling back from the brink, and walks over to Steve.

“You were really getting into that, sweetheart,” Steve says softly, tucking a strand of hair fallen free from its product behind Bucky’s ear. “You looked so perfect, so natural, in that chair. I almost let you come, just like that, just so I could see you lick it off your fingers”—Bucky whimpers, eyes sliding shut and tongue wetting his lower lip—“but then I remembered that you’ve never sucked a dick, and with a mouth as gorgeous as yours, it’s a shame.”

“You want me to suck your cock?” Bucky asks in that deepened voice of his, wrecked before he’s even been truly wrecked, twined intricately with thin ribbons of aching need and want.

“That’s exactly what I want,” Steve replies with a smile, thumbing over Bucky’s bottom lip. He looks down between them, at Bucky’s cock so naked, so close to his own, as it sways with the imperceptible movements of Bucky’s body. “You’re okay with it, right? I know these interviews can sometimes be a lot for someone, especially for someone like you who’s never experienced any of it.”

Bucky’s down on his knees quickly, working open Steve’s belt and slacks with dexterous fingers. He looks up at Steve through thick, dark lashes, and Steve can’t bite back his loud, low groan at Bucky’s eager gaze. Who is this kid, and what level of hell did he come from to tempt Steve like this?

“Let me suck your cock,” Bucky says, and his voice has gone higher, innocent, and Steve’s hips jerk forward, his cock doing the same where it’s still in his boxer-briefs. Bucky homes in on the movement, moans, “Please.”

“God, yes,” Steve moans in return, running his hand along Bucky’s hair. He sucks in a breath that doesn’t quite escape when Bucky pulls Steve from his underwear and swallows down his cock, hot and wet and tight with the slide of his tongue on the underside and the plush of his lips a suction around the girth.

Steve bites his lower lip, head falling back as he scratches his nails along Bucky’s scalp. “Can’t wait to see you swallow my come like a little slut, fuck.”

Bucky slides off with a pop, a thin, gossamer strand of saliva stretching to the head of Steve’s dick, and his voice has slid back into slightly unsure again when he says, “I—I don’t know if I can. My gag reflex isn’t the best.”

“It’ll be easy,” Steve assures, pressing a little on the back of Bucky’s head to urge him closer. Bucky goes, licking around the head of Steve’s cock where his foreskin has retracted. “Just a little bit at a time if you’re worried about it. We can—shit, so good, Bucky—work up to it.”

Bucky hums, bobbing his head as he wraps his fist around what he can’t get to, twisting his wrist as he sinks down to the circle of his fingers, then back up to suck at the head, tongue swirling around the slit. Steve feels his thighs tremble, feels the liquid fire rush up hot and sudden like lava to the surface, and he’s coming without warning, keeping his hand tight in Bucky’s hair as he shudders and gasps.

Bucky makes a little choking noise at first, eyes squeezed shut tight and forehead creased, but gradually the tenseness in his face relaxes as Steve pulses one last time into his mouth before gently easing his cock out.

“You okay?” he asks. Bucky looks up at him and nods silently, jaw held slack, and Steve feels an oversensitive twist in his gut, his cock giving a twinge even as it softens. “Let me see that mouthful of come, baby, c’mon.”

Bucky blinks and drops his mouth open, and there on his tongue, pooled gray-white against the backs of his teeth, is Steve’s come. There’s some at the corner of his mouth, and it’s only once Bucky’s swallowed bit by bit, staring up at the ceiling as he gulps it down loudly, that he swipes it away with his thumb, smiling with excited, bright eyes as he looks at Steve again.

“How was it?” Steve asks with an amused twist of his lips, stepping out of his slacks and underwear, undoing his tie and shirt to toss them on the chair with the rest of Bucky’s clothes. “Hop up on the desk and spread your legs for me, Bucky.”

Bucky purses his lips and hops up onto the desk, as requested, leaning back onto his elbows and spreading his legs. “Weird. I think that’s all that I can really say.”

Steve opens his drawer and laughs, extracting a bottle of lube. “I think that’s safe to say is pretty accurate for most people.” He uncaps the bottle and pours some onto his fingers, warming it up. Bucky’s eyes are on him, dark and hooded and intense, as they follow every movement. “I’m gonna finger you, okay?”

“Mhm,” Bucky says, not entirely there as Steve stands between his legs, teasing his fingers over Bucky’s hole, the seam between his balls, the sweet curve where ass becomes thigh.

“And then,” Steve says, “I’m gonna fuck you.”

Bucky whines and arches up as Steve slips one finger in to the last knuckle, pressing up, then down, and working it twistingly deep. Steve hears one of the drawers of his desk creak as Bucky grabs at it, fallen to his back and arching up, skin sticking and sliding to the metal as he works down against Steve’s finger. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Have you ever done this?” Steve pulls out to the tip and works in another finger, making sure the lube is slick against his fingers. The clench and drag of Bucky’s body around him makes Steve even achingly harder.

Bucky shakes his head and pants, “I always— _ah!_ —wanted to wait. F-fingering myself never seemed that appeal—appealing.”

Bucky hooks his legs around Steve’s shoulders, tilting his body up as three fingers slide deep, stretching him open with filthy wet squelching sounds. “Ohh f-fuck,” Bucky whines, arching up and wrapping a hand around his cock. “I think I’m gonna c-come, Steve, please…please fuck me. Wanna come on your cock.”

Thoughts of how Bucky would sound in different videos left Steve’s mind a long time ago. Selfishly, now, he’s glad to have this all to himself, to know that what Bucky is saying and what he’s feeling is because of him.

Steve very nearly rips the condom in half when he tries to open the package, and sliding it on takes an embarrassingly long time since he gets distracted every time he looks up and sees Bucky’s bright blue eyes watching him, waiting; and when he looks down and sees Bucky’s lube-slick hole, stretched just enough to be noticeable, he fares no better.

When he pushes in, slow and steady, inch by inch sinking deep into a hot, velvet vice, Bucky’s hands flutter up, like they’re not sure where to go, before falling back to the desk, fingers pressing hard to the cool metal as he gasps.

“Je— _Jesus_ ,” Bucky says. A sharp inhale of discomfort gives Steve pause, but Bucky is quick to spur him on, saying, “Fine, it’s fine, Jesus fucking Christ, your cock is _huge_ , Steve.”

“You’re taking it so well, too,” Steve groans, gripping tight to Bucky’s trim waist, thumbs digging into the skin just below the V of his hips. “Your virgin ass was made to be fucked, sweet thing. Made to have this huge fucking cock deep in it.”

Bucky whines and spreads his legs, keeping them wide until Steve puts them up on his shoulders, holding onto Bucky’s ankle with one hand when he moves faster, harder, their skin slapping together loud and echoing and so, so hot. The drawers of Steve’s desk rattle enough that, if Steve wasn’t half-out of his goddamn mind with lust at the writhing body below him, he might be concerned about its welfare.

“Please. Please oh please oh fuck,” Bucky begs, cock bouncing against his abdomen as Steve keeps his pace brutal.

“You want it harder?” Steve rasps. “You want it faster? You want to fuck yourself on this cock until you come?”

He lets go of Bucky’s legs and holds them wide instead, one palm broad against the sweet inside of it. Glancing, Steve shudders: his hand is almost the size of Bucky’s entire inner thigh, fingers wrapped around the steel of muscle under the surface.

Digging in his nails, Steve fucks his cock in deep, shifting his hips until he knows he’s found that spot. Bucky lights up like it’s Christmas, jerking hard and near-screaming at the pressure against him.

“Fuck, _Steve_ ,” Bucky whines in a breathy whisper, moans in wanton need, and Steve’s not sure when he’s heard a better soundtrack, even from some of the elite. “Fuck me. Make me come.” He gives a full-body shudder, legs going tense and back snapping up. “Oh god, I’m gonna _come_ , Steve, I’m—”

He’s cut off by his own high, wavering moan, Steve’s fist tight around him as he comes across his chest and Steve’s hand. He clenches around Steve’s cock spasmodically, and it’s not long after Bucky’s gone compliant and slack that Steve’s coming, swiveling his hips and pressing deep, gritting his teeth and spilling into the condom with low, aborted moans.

There are a few smears of come splashed white across the desk next to Bucky’s heaving, sweat-slicked chest; his legs have fallen open and loose, dangling from the edge of the desk and offering an unobstructed view of his freshly-fucked hole—and, shit, Steve’s taken Bucky’s virginity, unapologetically so, at an interview. Not in his apartment, like he’d envisioned wanting to do the moment Bucky said he was a virgin, but in his office.

Where, despite everything that has transpired, Steve most definitely does _not_ fuck interviewees.

He almost wants to apologize, to take Bucky out to dinner and then maybe back to his place—or Bucky’s—to do it properly, but when all Bucky does is smile weakly at him, sated and blissed and boneless, from the desk, Steve thinks that maybe, Bucky doesn’t mind as much as Steve thinks he does.

“So do I have the job?” Bucky asks, sitting up and taking the offered tissues to wipe off his chest. Steve follows the movement over one tiny brown nipple, then the thin thatch of dark hair across his pectorals. He sounds so innocent again, so eager and hopeful, that Steve’s glad he’d pulled his briefs back on so Bucky can’t see the greedy twitch of his cock.

“You have the job,” he confirms with a smile, staggering back in surprise when Bucky flings his arms around him.

“Now take me out to dinner,” Bucky whispers into his ear, cradling the back of Steve’s head with his hand. “I let you take my virginity so you owe me some Italian. Or Chinese. Whichever is closest.”

Steve kisses him for the first time, then, breathes out yes, of course against his lips, and tries not to smile too wide when Bucky makes a small, happy sounds and kisses him even harder back.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](http://endofadream.tumblr.com) and instagram is [here](http://instagram.com/wintersoldiered) if you’re into that sorta thing!
> 
> reviews are always lovely because i love talking about my works!


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